so why don't we go somewhere only we know
by eponnia
Summary: Soulmate AU. Monumental discoveries are made in the old tree house, but the day of revelations ends in ways she never could have dreamed of. [Part III of the "i was made for loving you" series. 2016 filmverse Jarzan one-shot.]


**AUTHOR'S NOTE: The title is from "Somewhere Only We Know" by Keane.**

* * *

 _I came across a fallen tree_

 _I felt the branches of it looking at me_

 _Is this the place we used to love?_

 _Is this the place that I've been dreaming of?_

* * *

She works with him even more intensively after he speaks his first human words.

Jane begins teaching him words for objects in his room that he has been around for over a month, words like _bed_ and _chair_ and _table_. It takes him some time, but he eventually masters them, and she then moves on to words like _hurt_. Nursing him back to health will be ten times easier if he can tell them if he is in pain instead of trying to bite Dr. Harris.

After she teaches him simple phrases out of books for the youngest students in the village, the doctor comes to remove the bandages and declares John – or Tarzan, as Jane privately calls him – on the road to recovery, giving her instructions to keep their patient from over exerting himself. But then one morning, Tarzan gets up from his chair he had been perched on in the sitting room. He has not yet mastered sitting in chairs like other humans, but all he says is, "Follow."

She obeys, confused but wanting to give him agency after so much time as a patient, and trails after him out the door.

The jungle towers above them, but he clearly seems to have a purpose, so she doesn't break her stride as they approach the tree line. Once they enter the jungle, however, he picks up his pace, and after a few minutes, she ducks under a branch and straightens to realize he is gone.

"Tarzan?"

Something moves in the bushes, but she doesn't go towards it. Now is not the time to seek out danger.

"Tarzan?"

He appears out of nowhere, and she jumps. "You scared me."

Her companion looks apologetic. "Sorry." He walks slower as they continue, and then she see a ladder hanging from a tall tree. Craning her neck, she sees some sort of structure in the top branches, and then he starts to climb.

A few rungs up the ladder, he looks back. "Follow."

The ladder is old, the vines and wood ancient, but it holds him, so she starts to slowly scale it. It swings in various directions from her own weight and his above her, but she determinedly continues. Tarzan brought her here for a reason, and she isn't about to let a ladder stop her.

It takes forever to scale to the top, but she finally reaches to what appears to be a house. It is old but well built, a standard Western influence to the clearly handmade structure's architecture, and Tarzan walks through the rooms as if he has been here before. The entire house reeks, but there is not an animal in sight.

As he shifts though dusty objects in shelves and boxes, she takes a moment to survey the tree house. Animals have very obviously been living here, but she can see definite human influences; there are crudely fashioned chairs and a roughly-hewn table on its side. On the floor beside a hand-made bed frame, there is even what looks like a mattress that had at one time been stuffed with feathers, leaves and grass. As she inspects the tattered and torn fabric that almost like an old ship's sail, Tarzan pulls something out of a box. And then he walks over to Jane, holding out his find to her.

It is a journal, leather cracked and pages water-stained, but she can make out a name in the printed letters on the cover.

"John Clayton?"

Tarzan does not react, and so she opens the journal, trying to read the faded handwriting in perfect cursive. The first page is dated to 1863 and discusses boarding a ship to Africa with a wife named Alice. But as Jane flips through the pages, she sees entries about a shipwreck, finding no other survivors other than Alice, and the struggle of building shelter in the jungle. Jane reads about the difficult birth of a son who was named after the author, and that the infant was the next Earl of Greystoke and heir to an estate in England. On the last page, however, the man describes burying Alice and fearing that territorial apes would try to kill him and his son.

The rest of the journal is blank, and she doesn't have to wonder long what happened to the author.

"Was John Clayton your father?" she asks, but Tarzan doesn't seem to understand.

They hear the roar of a Mangani ape in the distance, and before she can react Tarzan is grabbing her by the waist and jumping through a hole in the floor, one hand grasping a vine as his other arm holds her.

She barely manages to hang onto the journal as they swing through the trees.

* * *

Jane's lungs burn as she runs through the village, brushing past Wasimbu to shove the journal at Archimedes. "Father-"

"Where were you?" He grabs her by the shoulders as Tarzan follows. "Why were you in jungle with him? We were about to send out a search party! He could have hurt you or worse!"

"He did not hurt me," she says quickly. "He took me to wear his family lived, and-"

"His family?"

"I believe they died a long time ago, but their house still stands. Tarzan gave me a journal that has so much information about who he is-"

"Tarzan?"

Jane sighs. "Yes. He calls himself Tarzan, but I was right when I called him John Clayton." She holds up the journal. "This belonged to his father, and it says they were shipwrecked. Do you remember William Mildin, that nobleman who the papers said lived with gorillas? I believe Tarzan, John Clayton III, rather, was raised by Mangani apes, and that is why he does not speak a human language-"

"Jane, you are not make sense!" her father interrupted. "Your aunt would say you were sun touched, and for once I agree. You've been spending far too much time with that man, and creating wild fantasies about who he could be when we know nothing about him! You found him naked in the jungle, for goodness' sake! He could be a murderer!"

"He has never once tried to hurt me," she protests. Even you wrote him off as worthless, but I have worked with him. I have been teaching him English, and he is _learning_. He is starting to understand. He might not come from our background, but that does not mean he is less deserving of our kindness. You said that we should embrace other cultures, and that is what I am doing." Jane cannot hide the smile that breaks out across her face. "And he is my soulmate, Father."

Archimedes' face is lined. "I am aware. I saw your name on his wrist when he came in." The professor sighs. "I had wished…"

Even though he does not finish the sentence, Jane's gaze hardens. "What? You wished he was _dead_?"

He reaches up to massage his left shoulder, a habit he has picked up in the past few days. "No. I merely wish he was out of our lives. Perhaps he'll disappear back into the jungle and our lives can continue, for your sake."

"For _my_ sake?" She crosses her arms over her chest. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"I should have left you in Baltimore with your aunt. Jane, if word gets out you have been spending so much with him…"

She lifts her chin. "We both knew my reputation is not exactly stellar as it is, and what happened was long before Tarzan appeared. Someone needs to help him, Father, and it does not seem as if it will be you."

Archimedes' jaw sets. "This has lasted long enough. I will help him by sending him to a hospital in England, but that is where our involvement with him ends."

"A hospital? Do you not mean an asylum?" she shoots back. "Just because he is different does not mean he is mad! Just let me work with him a while longer–"

"No, Jane."

She takes a defiant step forward. "Father–"

"Enough! You are no longer a child. I will not have your reputation ruined for good because of him!"

"I do not care about my reputation!"

"It is not proper for you to–"

"I do not give a fig about what is _proper_! Why is respectability more important than helping another person?"

"Take Mr. Clayton back to his room and keep him there," Archimedes orders Wasimbu, who hesitates. "Jane, you are heading back to America on the first ship."

Jane's father wraps his hand around her wrist, covering her soulmate mark, and her eyes blaze. "I am not leaving him!" She tries to pull out his grip, but his hold is stronger than she has ever known before. "You are hurting me!"

Suddenly Tarzan is at her side, ripping Archimedes' hand from his daughter's arm, and Tarzan stands protectively between Jane and her father as the professor falls to the dirt.

"No hurt Jane," Tarzan growls. But Archimedes makes no attempt to get up, and then he clutches his heart, gaze becoming unfocused.

Fear coursing like ice through her veins, Jane darts around Tarzan to kneel beside her father, holding up a hand to let Tarzan know she is alright. Wasimbu sprints for help before she can even gasp for him to run, and she focuses on trying to keep her father awake.

He is dead by the time Muviro arrives.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: The reference to William Midlin is admittedly an anachronism, but one I feel is useful. Supposedly Edgar Rice Burroughs based the character of Tarzan on William Charles Midlin, Earl of Streatham, who supposedly was shipwrecked in Africa and lived with gorillas from 1868 to 1883. His "story" only came to light when his son died in 1937 and family documents were revealed, and so it is technically not accurate that Jane would know of Midlin at this point in the story in 1882, should his tale even be real.**

 **But I wanted to tie this back into the original books and "history" itself, as a nod to where the Tarzan story did and could have come from. Without Midlin and definitely without Burroughs, I would not be writing this fic series at all.**


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